


Medicine

by Carryonmygaywardsons



Series: Gallavich Oneshots [4]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Bipolar Disorder, Bipolar Ian, M/M, Mental Health Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-21
Updated: 2015-08-21
Packaged: 2018-04-16 13:08:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4626405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carryonmygaywardsons/pseuds/Carryonmygaywardsons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anonymous:<br/>Hey! Could you write a fic that explores what episode 508 would have been like had Mickey been there to pick up Ian from the psych ward? It would be interesting to see him in the scene with the psychiatrist, caring for a drowsy and thirsty Ian, etc.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Medicine

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I really took my time with this one, because I wanted to make sure that 1.) I wasn't triggering myself by writing it (I have Bipolar Disorder) and 2.) That I was writing it in a way that would hopefully not trigger others.  
> I made a post on tumblr about how I feel when I get asks to write about mental illness, and why it tales me so long to write it. 
> 
> Obviously, everyone has their own opinion on how this scene would've played out, but this is just how I personally thought it would've gone down.
> 
> Tumblr: respectmickey.tumblr.com

_"No- no, look, he's- he's low, we cheer him up."_

_It's not that easy. Mickey knew that much, but he couldn't bring himself to care. This can be fixed._

_"It's not like that. He may need to be **hospitalized.** "_

_All Mickey heard was the word 'hospital', and that was it. He's not gonna stand around while Ian's own family ships him off to some nut house, just because they don't wanna deal with him._

_"What do you mean? Like- like a **psych ward**? No fucking way! No fucking way! He's staying here!"_

_It was unrealistic. He knew that._

_"He could end up suicidal!"_

_Mickey stopped at that. Taken back by how easily Fiona said it; 'suicidal.' How could she be so calm about this? Her little brother was in serious pain and she acts like she doesn't give a shit._

_"Then we hide the knives until he perks up. I can- **I can take care of him, okay?**  Let-  **let me take care of him until he's better.** "_

_He could do that. Mickey could take care of him. How bad could it be, right? Just make sure he doesn't try to hurt himself?  Mickey and Mandy could take turns bringing him food and water, and trying to get him up so he could go to the bathroom. They could do this. He could do this._

_"It could be weeks. It's mood swings; okay, **it's almost impossible to handle.** "_

_It's not impossible, you just don't want to try!' Mickey wanted to scream it at Fiona. He wanted to tell her every little thing she was doing wrong, but he knew it would just make her hate him even more, and he didn't need Ian resenting him for that. She just needs to try. He's trying, why isn't she? Why doesn't she want to?_

_"Don't fucking tell me what's impossible! We're taking care of him, here! You, me, us. He's fucking family."_

_Fiona needed to know that she wasn't off the hook. Just because Mickey was willing to take care of Ian, doesn't mean she gets to just walk the fuck away. They're both taking of him. He's family, and you don't just abandon your family when they get too difficult. Fiona's gonna step up, and Mickey's gonna make her. She can do this. She can help._

_"I have to get to a meeting, okay? Um, we'll call Lip and we'll let him know what's going on, okay? C'mon."_

_She was leaving. This was his last chance to get it through her head that Ian's staying. That Mickey's taking care of him._

_"He's not going to some fucking nut house, you hear me? **He stays here. He's staying with me.** "_

-

Everything's white. Why is everything so white? White walls, white doors, white floors, white desks.. It's all too white. It makes Mickey feel like he's leaving dirt everywhere he steps. Like he's leaving a sort of footprint in a place he shouldn't be. He shouldn't be here. How did he get here? How did _they_ get here?

"You doing okay, Mick?"

Lip's voice snapped Mickey out of his thoughts. He was leaned over, looking at Mickey from his place in the chair he was sitting in. The chair that was identical to Mickey's. The chair that was too white, in this white room.

"What? Yeah- yeah, I'm fine." Mickey shook his head, and straightened up in his seat, trying not to look too freaked out by this situation they were in.

Lip just gave him a knowing look, and nodded, sitting back in chair. 

Fiona was sitting silently between the two. She hadn't said a word since the three of them arrived at the hospital, twenty minutes ago. She just kept her head down, staring at her fingers as she picked at her nails in her lap.

"Jesus Christ, how long is this fucking lady gonna be?" Mickey snapped, getting too uncomfortable with the silence that hung in the air.

The doctor chose that moment to step into the small office. "Hello, sorry I took so long, I was having trouble finding Ian's files." She spoke softly, as she walked around her desk, taking a seat in the office chair.

"So what're we dealing with?" Fiona said, raising her head to look the doctor in the eyes.

The doctor sighed to herself, opening Ian's file, so she could give them the rundown on all things Ian. "Bipolar one, acute mania, with psychotic features. This means Ian-"

"Yeah, we know what it means." Fiona interrupted, "Can we take him home now?" She was already standing, trying to make her way for the door.

Mickey understood that this was a lot for the Gallagher's to deal with, but for fuck sake, he had no idea what that meant. He has no idea what any of this means, and he needs someone to explain it to him. "No, we don't know what that means." Mickey snapped, looking at Fiona, where she stood in the doorway. "Some of us here haven't had to deal with this shit before, so maybe the doctor should explain it to us."

Fiona look surprised at Mickey's outburst,  but sat back down in her seat nonetheless. 

"And who are you, in relation to Ian?" The doctor asked politely, looking at Mickey.

"I'm his boyfriend." Mickey replied bluntly.

The doctor nodded to herself, smiling, before speaking again. "Alright, well this just means that, by Ian being Bipolar, he experiences extreme mood episodes."

Mickey still didn't understand what that meant, and his patience was wearing short. "The fuck does that mean?"

"It means that Ian can experience major depression, as well as mania. While depressed, he may not talk, or get out of bed. He's eating habits will change, causing him to develop either weight gain or loss. He may feel hopeless, or like he has nothing to live for." The doctor spoke softly, trying to explain in as much detail as possible. "Now, while manic, Ian will say he feels the best he ever has. He'll be very energetic, wanting to accomplish multiple tasks at once. He'll experience racing thoughts, and participate in reckless behavior. Hyper sexuality and lack of sleep are also key factors of a manic episode."

Mickey nodded to himself, trying to wrap his head around everything she just said, thinking back to last winter when Ian didn't get out of bed for months.

"I understand there's a family history, and that this diagnosis is difficult to hear. But I do need to go over a few specifics as regards Ian."

"Alright, what's going on?" Mickey said, prompting the doctor to continue.

"He's resisting his diagnosis. We had to make med compliance a requirement for his release."

Fuck. Of course he's resisting his diagnosis, he probably thinks being Bipolar makes him like Monica.

"So what, you're saying we need to hold him down? Make him take his meds?" Lip said, from his seat. There was a sarcastic tone in his voice, but Mickey knew it was a legitimate question.

"Well, I'm saying it'll take his meds about two weeks to really start working. Until then, yes, I am suggesting he be carefully supervised."

'Supervised.' Like some fucking toddler who can't take care of himself. Mickey had no problem taking care of Ian, but just hearing it all come from the doctors mouth, made it all too real. This was Ian's life now.

"I'm giving you a one week supply of anti-psychotics, mood stabilizers, and sedatives." The doctor placed three pill bottles on the desk, all labeled 'Ian Gallagher.' "He needs to take one pill from each bottle, with food, three times a day. You have a week to get him to a psychiatrist if he's insured-"

"Or a clinic if he's not, which he's not. We know the drill." Fiona interrupted.

The doctor sighed, with a look of sympathy painted on her face, as she stood and headed for the door. "Don't be surprised if he mostly sleeps, until he meds are properly balanced. Ian should be here shortly. Good Luck." And with that, she left the room, leaving the three with nothing more than their thoughts.

This was it. This was Ian's new life. A life of doctors appointments, and medication, and supervision. Mickey knew this was going to be tough, and he was in it for the long haul. He knew Ian could survive without him, on the off chance that Mickey up and left. But the thing was, Mickey didn't want to leave. He wanted Ian; baggage and everything.

The silence in the room was growing too strong, and the tension could be cut with a knife. None of them knew what to say to make this better.

"Fuck." Lip was the one to finally break the never ending silence. It wasn't an angry 'Fuck', it was a tired one. A confused, tired, and worn down word. He said it like he had just been punched in the gut. Like he knew everything was changing so fast, no one could do a thing to make it all slow down.

"Yeah." Fiona said. That's all she could say. 

Mickey just sat there, looking blankly at the wall in front of him. He barely registered the sound of a door opening when Ian walked in. He was the first one out of his seat. Just standing there, waiting for Lip and Fiona to hopefully make the first move. They did, thankfully. Fiona rushed to give Ian a hug, burrowing her face into the crook on Ian's neck, with a hand cradling the back of his head. She pulled away, giving Ian a reassuring nod, and stepping aside so Lip could hug him next. Mickey just stood back, watching the exchange happen. The way Lip wrapped his arms around his younger brother, holding him like they hadn't seen each other in years. Lip pulled away, giving Ian a slight pat on the back, and moved so Ian and Mickey were standing directly across from one another, just staring.

Mickey took a deep breath, and just went for it. He didn't try holding Ian like he was made of glass, because he knew he wasn't. He knew Ian could handle being held like everything was normal. And he deserved to be treated like everything was normal. Mickey wrapped his arms around Ian's waist, bringing him in close, holding Ian's head against his shoulder, and placing his own face against Ian's neck. They stood there for what felt like forever, just holding each other. Not wanting to let go, in fear of returning to reality.

When they finally separated, Mickey stepped back, but kept a hand on Ian's shoulder, and a hand cradling the side of Ian's face, just staring at him. Staring into his green eyes that were dulled by the medication. He gave a slight smile, and sighed. "How you doing, buddy?" He asked carefully.

Ian only shrugged first, as if to say "I've been worse." But Mickey understood everything Ian was silently saying.

"You ready to go home?" Mickey asked, dropping his hands from Ian's face and shoulder.

"Am I going with you, or with Fiona and Lip?" Ian asked quietly.

"You can go wherever you want, Ian." Fiona answered, before Mickey had the chance to.

Ian didn't reply for what felt like hours, but was really only about two minutes. When he finally did though, Mickey's heart swelled. "I'm tired. I just wanna go to bed with Mickey."

Mickey could see Fiona and Lip's disappointment, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Ian wanted to be with him. He wanted to go to their home.

"Alright, that's fine. You can come by the house tomorrow, I guess." Fiona said softly, obviously trying to hide her disappointment.

Ian just smiled slightly, and nodded, reaching for Mickey's hand. "Alright, let's go home."

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you again, to the lovely anon that sent in this prompt!


End file.
